Save Me From Myself
by Heart of the Matter
Summary: “I just want to end it all. I want it all to go away,” I speak quietly, barely whispering. “I can make it all go away. But, I don’t want you to go away.” His voice is softer now. “How?”


**Remember - The ideal nutrition source for an author is 'Reviews'**

**Disclaimer - These are not my characters. I just like to play around with them.**

**Saving Me From Myself**

Is this what my life has come to? Each passing moment is another second spent in torture; another second spent in the depths of stress, depression and deprivation of the most essential needs of a human, care and love. You'd think there's loads of love around me, between my friends, family, even the general public and me; because I am the Chosen One's best friend and because I am the brains of the Trio. But the truth is the truth, and that truth is far from what is perceived. Because each day of my life is spent in eternal damnation and with that comes the repercussions; consequences that my mental and emotional stability have to suffer with.

It's impossible to tell when it all began. I guess I always was the one who compromised. I was the girl from whom her friends expected solutions. I was the friend from whom her colleagues and acquaintances expected knowledge and understanding. I was the child from whom her parents expected the world. But how much weight can I be expected to carry on my shoulders? At the end of the day, all I am is a 20 year old girl who has had so many matured experiences in her life, that she longs to re-live her childhood like a normal girl, in a normal world, around normal people, who aren't promised by destiny to kill one of the most powerful wizards in the world and effectively save the whole of mankind.

The stress of studies, of work, of expectations from friends and family, of always being mature enough to take the brunt of a bad situation so that I can choose to forget about it and we all can move on with our lives rather than have to deal with the after effects; all these things have gotten to my head, and my heart. How much more can my body bear before I can't take it anymore?

No more.

I look at the wand in my hand. It's the gateway. Once I use it, I'll be free. The sweet feeling of how close my end, my new beginning, is brings tears to my eyes. I stare and I know that I have to do this; I have to do something for myself, once in my life, even if it is the last thing I will ever do in this life. I lift my wand and point it to my chest.

"Avada Ka-"

"Expelliarmus!"

It's him. I know it before I see or even hear.

One second my wand is flying out of my hand and the next, I'm pressed against the wall, arms pinned next to my face, his hot breath blowing onto me like smoke from a dragons snout. His eyes are swirling with tempestuous emotions; fear, worry, despair, but also relief and hope. It's hard to read him, as it always has been.

"What. The. Fuck!"

His harsh tone startles me as he speaks them through gritted teeth. The rudeness of his words surprise me too because he has never spoken to me this way.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing!?"

I wonder how he knew, how he got there right on time, and then mentally curse myself for forgetting the bond. When I had brought him back to life, I had given part of my soul, my own life, to revive him from his dead-like state. Since then, he seemed to understand what I felt, while I was feeling it, no matter how far away I was. Over time, he had learned to read into those feelings and deduce my actions. This was the only person in my life that had shown the slightest bit of genuine care for me, but I always figured that it was a way of repaying a debt that I seemed to have put him in, by saving him. Now he was here, our roles reversed, as he saved me from myself.

"What do you think you were doing!?"

I stare at his face, not knowing what to say. Now that he is in front of me, I don't feel like killing myself anymore. But I know why I wanted to do it before.

"I just want to end it all. I want it all to go away," I speak quietly, barely whispering.

He knows what 'it' is. He knows because he can sense it. He also knows what is coming next. He pulls me to his chest and holds me as the tears start to flow and one by one, a tidal wave of sobs escaping me. I don't like breaking down like this. I never liked to show people my vulnerable side. The pride in me never allowed me to do so. But right now, my pride is lost in the darkness cast by my instability, and I allow myself to cry into the arms of my savior. He strokes my hair gently, yet holds me fiercely to him.

"I can make it all go away. But, I don't want _you _to go away." His voice is softer now.

"How?"

"Just like this," and he lifts my tear-stained face to his, pressing his lips to mine.

The kiss engulfs me and I start to forget about the pain, the problems and the shadows of my past, my focus shifting onto him and all the fine details within him, from his silky, ebony locks to his chiseled face and his well-built muscular body. One arm stays encircled around my waist while the other rakes my hair tenderly. His kiss is all-encompassing - he is soft, gentle at first but his feelings grow intense and persistent. He leads me towards my bed, and turns us without breaking the kiss, so that my back was facing it. He pushes back and looks at my face adoringly, and slowly lays me down, holding himself only a hair's length above my broken soul, ready to fix me.

His hand snakes down my arm and towards my thigh, pulling it up to rest on his back as he kisses me once more. His lips lead mine in a passionate dance before he penetrates it with his hot tongue. There is no conflict, no battle of dominance. He clearly leads the dance as I follow, like tutor to a trainee, like healer to a patient. Suddenly breathless, my body humming, I lift my arm to encircle his neck and moan softly into his mouth, pressing my eyes close. His tongue fills me and his hips grind into mine, expressing his desire. When he moves away, I open my eyes to look at him, but his are diverted from my face, as he makes his way down my body, peppering kisses on my neck and shoulder. He runs his tongue along my clavicle and I sigh, heat roaring through me, replacing the cold that had inhabited there not even a few minutes ago.

I don't notice that he has set to work undoing my buttons until he pushes my top aside, lifting me slightly so that he can remove it completely. He gazes at my chemise, two of his fingers grazing the curve of my breast before he lowers his lips and closes it over one taut bud through the silk. My heart leaps in my chest and I jerk slightly with startled pleasure; a pleasure I had been deprived of. I run my fingers through his hair, urging him back to my waiting lips. I kiss him back passionately then, his need mingling with mine. I tug at his shirt, pulling it from his jeans and set to work on his buttons, suddenly eager to feel his naked flesh against my own. In the next moment I gasp and forget the buttons, my legs going weak, as his hand slides under my chemise and closes firmly around my breast. Sensing my desire, he slides his thigh between both of mine and thrusts his tongue into my mouth as his fingers toy with one erect nipple.

My feelings flow through me and into him, and I clutch his shoulders. I bite lightly on his tongue and shift my body under his, grinding myself into his thigh, then reach down to find him through the cloth of his pants. He immediately gives up toying with my breast and begins to pull my short, tight skirt down until he has taken them off and, again, tossed it away carelessly. He admires me for a moment before lowering himself down again, his hand sliding into my panties and caressing me briefly. Moaning as the need overwhelms me; I quickly undo his jeans and slide it down his legs along with his boxers. He shrugs out of them, hand stroking my soft folds, lips burning my own with passion. I bring my hand down to encase his growing shaft and he growls, sliding his hand from between my legs and taking them lower, urging me to wrap both legs behind his back. I do as he silently asks, moving my hands to his shoulders once more, squeezing it as he lowers himself and drives into me.

We break our kiss, both crying out in pleasure as he fills me to the core, then stare at each other, panting as he slowly withdraws a little and the pushes back into me. Pinned under his weight, I moan and close my eyes as I'm assaulted with both the sensation of his body entering mine and my own closing around him and drawing him in. And then he kisses me again, tongue thrusting into me as his erection does, the kiss growing frantic along with his actions.

I pull him closer to me, wanting nothing more than to mould my body into his and move with him, faster and harder. The sensation I get, now, feeling these emotions course through me once more, with a man that cares for me dearly, brings me closer to the edge and his thumb, rubbing circles over my sensitive nub sends me leaping over it in a crazed frenzy.

I feel my walls tighten around his shaft and he moves faster, moaning into my mouth as he kisses me once more. I let go of the last of my reserve and sigh out his name as he stops moving after one last stroke, coming inside me and growling in ecstasy.

"Sirius," my voice is but a whisper, with more of a voice than I could have hoped to have in my healing state, and my arms are around his chest, afraid of letting him go.

He knows this, and he lifts his head to face me, placing a chaste kiss on my forehead and rolling to his side, still holding onto me and pulling me with him. He removes himself from between my legs but keeps his arms around me, one over my neck, fingers brushing through my hair, and the other under my waist, resting on my back. He keeps me firmly in his grasp, pressing my body to his and refusing to loosen his hold. It's good; because I don't want him to. I place a kiss on the crook of his neck and rest my head there, my breath blowing on his flushed skin.

"Don't ever try to leave me again," he says, his words muffled in my hair.

"Will you fix me when I fall?" I look up at him, the brims of my eyes lined with new formed tears.

"Everytime."

He hooks his fingers into my own and brings his lips down to mine and I know: I will never be broken again. I don't even have to tell him. He knows when he looks in my eyes, as I move my lips in harmony with his, and from how we fit each other perfectly. And he is assured because he can sense it; he can sense what I think and feel, as I can with him.

I love you.

I love you too.


End file.
